Dear Sweet Lady
by lightNme
Summary: The dissappearance of Mort's dead wife's sister, Fiona, has come back to haunt him when he realizes he'll never live in peace. He dreads to hear Fiona's voice, but maybe he doesn't have to? Can he live his "NEW" life with Ivy? What would Shooter think?
1. Default Chapter

**_Dear Sweet Lady_**

Mort Rainey removed his dark framed glasses and squinted as the light from his desk shown into his eyes. He was exhausted, confused, and most of all lonely.  
  
Chico lay comfortably below his desk, his dark chin placed on Mort's black slipper and his paws sprawled out before him.  
  
"Chico, does this sound stupid?" Mort placed his glasses upon his nose and his chin in the palm of his hand as his eyes studied the sheet of paper that was full of ideas.  
  
At the sound of his master's voice, Chico's head shot up, tilting towards one side and his tail began to wag, thumping the floor beneath him.  
  
"The garden of eternity had finally been born. Next, was something even more extravagant. The ears of corn were not complete without a helping of potatoes, seasoned in their own nutritious value, and rooted in the finest  
soil..."  
  
Mort paused, tossing his pencil on the desk, "Cheesy," he answered simply, "...it sounds freakin' cheesy."  
  
Chico moved out from under the desk and stood by Mort's side, jumping to his hind legs, and propping on Mort's thigh.  
  
Mort couldn't help but to laugh a bit, "Boy you are spoiled rotten, you know that?" he ran his hand through the dog's thick fur and allowed a yawn  
to escape his mouth, "Insomnia doesn't come easily, does it fellow?"  
  
Just as he grinned down at the beautiful dog, he heard someone knock on the front door.  
  
Mort stared cautiously, "Who could that be at eight p.m.? Doesn't the town have any life during that hour?" His sarcastic remark was directed to his dog that was used to such attention.  
  
Chico followed his leader down the wooden stair case, tail continuing to wag fiercely through the air.  
  
Mort stepped towards the window, pulled the curtain back a bit and stared at the person on his door step.  
  
His eyes were a bit wide and he couldn't believe who stood before him, waiting for the polite gesture that they surely expected.  
  
Mort moved back, allowing the flap of the curtain to hit the pain. His eyes were extremely dry as he allowed another helpless yawn to escape his moist lips, "Shhh," he placed a finger to his lips and whispered, "don't make a sound," his eyes studied Chico.  
  
Chico continued to stare bluntly at his master, his forehead wrinkling a bit. Mort began to wonder if the dog was saner than him.  
  
"Mort Rainey," the sweet voice of the woman from the other side rang out,  
"I saw you peak through the window, I'm not that blind."  
  
Mort could sense the irritability and sighed more to himself as he reached for the doorknob, he chided his dog, "Why didn't you warn me?"  
  
"I'm coming," Mort's throat sounded dry and emotionless as he turned the knob and threw the door back, "Hello...Fiona," Mort gave a welcoming, yet fake smile.  
  
Fiona wrapped her arms around her waist, "Hello Mort. Mourning over my sister's death, I still see," she licked her glossed tan lips and stared deep into his greenish brown eyes.  
  
"Yes, as a matter of fact," he shifted his glasses that were upon his nose, "I am."  
  
Fiona's eyes gazed past Mort's head, focusing on the living room, flowing up the staircase, and suddenly stopped. Before she could ask any questions, Mort broke in, "What are you here for, Fiona?"  
  
Her dark blue eyes focused on his, "I honestly came to see how you were doing, may I come in...or are you going to talk to me through the crack all afternoon?" A small smile lit up her face.  
  
Mort couldn't help but to step back hesitantly and then pulled the door open, "Please, do come in." He wasn't sure if that was going to be taken as sarcastic or not, but that was how he meant.  
  
Fiona stepped through the door as Mort closed it behind her, facing her  
once more as she began to walk through the living room slowly.  
  
His eyes focused on the suitcase that was clutched tightly in her hand. He swallowed the lump in his throat quickly.  
  
"I'm doing fine," Mort's voice suddenly rang out, his eyes shooting from the suitcase.  
  
"I'm sorry?" Fiona turned on her heel and faced him, her eyes staring questioningly.  
  
"I said I'm doing fine...you asked how I was doing," Mort reminded her, running his fingers through his messy tangled hair.  
  
"Oh, yes, of course," she spoke quickly and gave a small laugh, "Sorry, I'm not all with it today."  
  
"We all aren't," Mort whispered, "please," he motioned towards the couch,  
"make yourself comfortable, would you like something to eat or drink?"  
  
Fiona dodged the large coffee table and sat in the dark brown chair, "Uh, no thank you," she gazed at Mort and studied his features. Chico immediately walked over to her, his head held high.  
  
Fiona grinned, "Hey Chico...what are you up to lately?" she ran her fingers over the dog's ears, more like massaging them. Her attention tore from the dog and focused back on Mort.  
  
He'd change since the last time she saw him. The way Fiona remembered him was nice combed hair, sometimes even gelled back. His glasses were always straight and cleaned. His beautiful smile was simply hypnotizing, and he  
always had a wonderful since of humor. Not to mention Amy was always hanging on to his arm.  
  
"You look great," Fiona placed her elbows on her knees as she leaned forward, propping her chin in the palms of her hands.  
  
Mort gave a weak thank you smile and sighed more to himself than anyone, "Thank you, so do you."  
  
Mort did not lie. She really was beautiful. She was the total opposite from Amy, which made no sense. They were sisters and only six years apart. Amy's hair was a golden blond, but Fiona's was a midnight black. They were both very attractive. Amy's eyes were dark and mysterious. Fiona's were an ocean  
blue and could catch anyone's attention. He hated to admit to Fiona's beauty, especially at a time like this, but it was the truth. How could he lie?  
  
"Have they found him?" Fiona's voice rang through Mort's ears, awakening him from his day dreaming.  
  
"I'm sorry?" Mort's eyes studied her frame as she sat in the chair. She wore a pair of dark denim blue jeans, a tight black sleeveless shirt, and her hair was pulled in a high ponytail, falling down between her shoulder blades, pieces hung over her shoulders.  
  
"I asked if they've found him yet," Fiona was not shocked by his distance,  
but rather uncomfortable by his wondering eyes.  
  
"Found who?" Mort's mouth formed and remained in the "O" position as he sat on the couch, waiting for her to finish.  
  
Fiona sighed, "The killer Mort," she refused to go in detail as she leaned back in the chair, crossing her legs, "Did they find Amy's killer?"  
  
Mort quickly shook his head, "No...I don't think so." He looked down at the ground and noticed a glass plate, covered in butter and salt.  
  
Swallowing the lump in his throat he focused on Fiona, "You came all the way to Colorado from Orlando to see how I was doing?"  
  
"Amy," Fiona spoke loudly, trying to get her point across, "was terrified Mort, she didn't want you to get hurt. I wanted to make sure you didn't have a major break down. I heard about what happened when you caught her and Ted."  
  
"You didn't like Ted," Mort changed the topic, "Did you?"  
  
"It's not that I didn't like Ted," Fiona sighed heavily as she shifted on  
the comfortable cushioned chair, "I just don't think he was the one for her. You know?"  
  
"Tell me about it," Mort whispered under his breath as he side kicked the plate beneath the couch.  
  
Chico raced to the side of the couch and pried his nose between the floor and furniture. Mort watched as the dog stuck his rear into the air, his front paw scratching at the floor to get to the left over butter that was on the plate.  
  
"Chico," Mort chided, snapping his fingers. Chico's head remained buried under the couch as Mort rolled his eyes, "Chico, go lay down," his voice was stern, "Now!"  
  
Chico jumped and pulled his head from the end of the couch. Fiona sat back, highly amused by the dog and his owners 'connection'.  
  
Chico slumped his head and walked between the couch and chair, moved in a small circle and finally lay down, placing his doggie chin on his paws as earlier.  
  
"Where are you staying?" Mort suddenly broke the silence as Fiona's eyes rested on the dog. She looked up, her eyes piercing into his, "Green Bay Hotel," she answered simply, "You know where that is?"  
  
"Yes," He nodded slowly, "I do...aren't they extremely expensive? Like...80 a night?"  
  
Fiona gave a fake smile, "Yeah, but I have enough money, so I'm fine."  
  
"Look," Mort cleared his throat and stood to his feet, "why don't you stay here? I have an extra room and you shouldn't have to stay in a hotel that cost more than a month supply of food."  
  
Fiona shook her head quickly, obviously objecting, "No Mort, that's not necessary. I mean..." she paused when she saw the long look upon his face, "...that's nice, but really, I can stay in a hotel, I don't mind."  
  
Mort gave a cheesy grin, "But I do...you came here to see how I'm doing, am I right?" He watched as Fiona nodded slowly, "Then you're staying here...you're  
here for me, the least you can do is accept my invitation."  
  
Fiona studied his face for a moment. How could she turn this down politely?  
What excuse could she make up?  
  
"Ok," she finally gave in, forcing a smile to take on her face, "thank you Mort."  
  
Mort grinned, "No problem," he walked around the end of the couch tugging on his multicolored robe. He shuffled his hair and walked towards the kitchen, "I'll start boiling the corn..." 


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two:  
  
The sun was barely shining when the lights to Fiona's room woke her up. The flash automatically weakened her eyes as she rolled on to her stomach and  
groaned.  
  
"Good morning," Mort spoke casually, "I see you're up."  
  
"Now I am," she murmured as she allowed a yawn to escape her lips. She  
pushed herself into a sitting position, running her fingers through her  
hair.  
  
"Why did you do that?" her voice croaked with sleepiness and her eyes were  
now adjusting to the sharpness of the light.  
  
"For starters," he grinned and leaned against the door frame, tilting his head, "I need to show you around the house, so it seems you forgot about that. Not to mention I have a story to write..." he crossed his arms over his  
chest, "So if you don't mind I'd like to get a head start on the day."  
  
"Well," Fiona retorted, "I do," she lay back on the bed and closed her  
eyes, still halfway asleep.  
  
"Well, well, well, isn't someone cranky today?" the sarcasm in his voice slapped her hard as she played it off and rolled to her side, placing her  
feet on the steady ground.  
  
"That's more like it, what would you like for breakfast?" Mort stood  
straight once more, prepared to walk from the room.  
  
"I don't care," she moaned softly standing to her feet. All she cared about  
at the moment was her beauty rest.  
  
"Alright," he grinned sheepishly, "come downstairs when you're ready, and that doesn't mean go back to sleep for three hours," he added as he began  
to walk away.  
  
Fiona rolled her eyes and glanced around the large room that she made 'her'  
bedroom.  
  
There was a lock on the door, wasn't there?  
  
"Two or three?" Mort scooped two pancakes on the spatula and slapped them  
on the plate before her.  
  
"One," she spoke emotionlessly as she shifted in her chair uncomfortably.  
She tucked her feet under her body and sipped on the orange juice.  
  
Mort picked one pancake up with his fingers and placed it on his plate.  
  
Fiona's eyebrows narrowed as the only sound through out the kitchen was  
that of the bottom of her juice hitting the surface of the table.  
  
"Any lucky men in your life?" Mort broke the awkward silence with an awkward question as he pulled his chair out and took a seat, the bottom of  
the chair squealing against the cold white tiles.  
  
Fiona cleared her throat and watched him soak his three pancakes with  
syrup, "Actually, no...there was one."  
  
He was surprised that she didn't shoot an 'it is none of your business' comment towards him, but he questioned her after dabbing his mouth with his  
napkin, "Oh...so what happened to the 'one'?"  
  
"Is that any of your business?" she shot heavily, her pancakes left  
untouched.  
  
Mort smirked and shook his head while continuing to eat, "Figures..." his  
breath was slow and steady.  
  
Fiona ignored the comment and licked her lips, "Honestly he left me for  
another woman," her eyes remained turned from Mort's.  
  
They both heard clicking noises and watched as Chico made his way in the  
kitchen.  
  
"Chico," Mort greeted with a large smile, "Hey boy, hungry?" Mort stood  
from his chair and made his way to the cabinet, searching for the doggy  
dish.  
  
"Let me guess," Fiona spoke with sarcasm as she finally dug into her food,  
"you let the dog sleep in, but woke me up?"  
  
Mort chuckled under his breath as he pulled some wet dog food from the  
cabinet, "Correct...Chico had a rough night last night."  
  
"Right," Fiona paid no attention to his bizarre explanation, but continued to watch Mort as he placed the bowl of soft food on the ground, "There you  
go boy."  
  
Chico immediately began to eat the dog food, chucking it all down in four  
or five gulps.  
  
"So, about this man," Mort walked back over to his seat and began to eat his food once more as the dog's smacking and swallowing echoed through out  
the kitchen.  
  
Fiona placed her fork on her plate, "The man was Ted."  
  
Mort cocked an eyebrow and cleared his throat after a long pause, "Oh..."  
  
Fiona instantly noticed the uncomfortable silence as she took a deep  
breath, "Yeah. He left me for Amy."  
  
"Well," Mort replied, shrugging his shoulders softly, "Look at it this way,  
Ted was with Amy, and now...you're with me."  
  
Fiona stood from her seat, "Fuck you Mort."  
  
"Sorry, but that'd be against my morals," not once did he look up as Fiona stomped her foot in frustration and stormed from the kitchen, mumbling to  
herself, "What morals could that man possibly have?"  
  
Mort leaned over the table a moment and took a hold of the plate, placing it on the floor, "Here you go Chico, she doesn't know good food when she  
smells it."  
  
Chico quickly rushed over to gobble the left over pancakes that were  
covered with only butter.  
  
Fiona pulled her long black hair back in a high ponytail and stared at her  
reflection in the mirror.  
  
Her eyes were large pools and could soak anything into them. She had to admit that she took her looks for advantage. Her body was in the perfect  
shape and her hair matched her beautiful toned skin.  
  
Grabbing on to the bottle in her smaller duffle bag, she pulled her prescribed bottle from inside. She dumped two small red pills in her hand  
and threw her head back, tossing the medication on her tongue.  
  
After swallowing the pills and washing them down with a handful of water, Fiona noticed she only had two more left. That would only last her until  
tomorrow afternoon.  
  
She took her mind from her worries and thought back to Mort, a sensation  
filling her stomach, most likely butterflies.  
  
This was the right time to try and get Mort. And Mort, she would get.  
  
Not because she wanted to kill him or torture him, but because she had  
always been in 'love' with Mort ever since Amy introduced the two.  
  
Back then, however, Mort was more of a gentleman, more trimmed, and  
definitely more untouchable.  
  
She had to make it seem as if she hated his guts, then when the time was  
right, he'd be hers and only hers.  
  
Her eyes remained glued to the smile that was spread across her face and  
her bright white teeth glistened in the mirror.  
  
"Fiona," Mort interrupted her visual as he knocked on the side of the wall  
and poked his head inside the open door, "Come on, I need to show you  
around, we're wasting precious writing time."  
  
Fiona chuckled at his insistence, but nodded, turning around and facing  
him, "Then why don't you go write and allow me to explore by myself?"  
  
Mort stared at her sternly. Her eyebrow was cocked, and her face tilted a bit to the side. He shook his head slowly, "Because you are not 'exploring'  
my house without me."  
  
Fiona rolled her eyes and walked past him quickly, brushing against his  
shoulder.  
  
Mort nudged back a bit from her physical touch, but shook his head slowly.  
What could he possibly do with her?  
  
Walking behind her slowly, he pulled his black wool sweater down and placed his hands in his dark denim blue jeans. His eyes trailed all down her back  
side, licking his lips.  
  
She suddenly turned around causing his eyes to avert quickly to hers, "So..." she shrugged softly and folded her arms over her bosom, "...lets start with  
that room over there."  
  
Mort quickly walked past her, "I know that, that's where we were going," his back was turned to her as she gave him an evil stare, but continued to  
follow him.  
  
"This is mine and Amy's bedroom," his eyes worked their way around the messy room, "don't even think about going in there," staring deeply into  
her eyes, she knew he was serious.  
  
"Why would I even?" she asked sarcastically as he pulled the door closed and walked past her, "Over here is..." he opened the door to another room, "is obviously your bedroom for right now anyways," he didn't once look back  
at her.  
  
Fiona felt he was hiding something. She could tell by his movements that he  
was keeping something a secret.  
  
"This," he pointed to the desk that was right next to the edge of the stairs, and pushed against the fence of the balcony, "is MY writing desk, so basically another thing of MINE, so don't touch anything on MY desk."  
  
Fiona licked her lips slowly and smirked, "You are such an asshole, you  
know that?"  
  
"With pride," he replied walking down the stairs, the steps creaking every  
now and then.  
  
Fiona didn't feel like having a tour, she felt like relaxing on the couch with Mort's head in her lap and her fingers glazing his scalp. Her heart  
began to beat faster at the thought.  
  
"Are you coming or not?" Mort shot a bit loudly.  
  
Fiona placed her hands on her hips, "Yes, damn..." she gave a loud sigh and  
continued to watch him as he walked, "You know you're way around down stairs already, all I want to show you is the cornfield," his eyes perked  
up when he mentioned it.  
  
Fiona noticed his sudden change of mood as he walked out onto the front  
porch and pulled the screen door that led to the back open, "Here is my corn field, no one can pick corn from it but ME." He emphasized the word  
'me' once more as his eyes drifted over the large field of crops.  
  
"Right..." Fiona giggled a bit as she shifted on the porch and wrapped her arms around her waist, sucking in a deep breath, "...is that all? It's a bit  
chilly out here."  
  
"Yeah, that's it," Mort concluded as he ran his fingers through his hair  
and faced the house once more, "I have to get to work anyways."  
  
Fiona's eyes followed Mort's every move as if he were her prey. She walked behind him ever so slowly, amazed by his beauty. Never in her life had she  
felt so certain.  
  
She suddenly began to feel as if she were lucky to escape the hospital, the  
hospital that they tortured her in, the mean, horrible, vicious doctors  
with their long needles and taunting machines.  
  
But most of all she escaped the tight, sweaty, and uncomfortable white  
jackets. 


End file.
